I recently spent a weekend away with two of my closet friends. One of them is 14 weeks pregnant and the other is 11..both of them expecting bouncing bundles in the spring--the exact time our frosties would've been due--- IF they would've stuck.
This is when mother nature really tests me and my strength because for most of the summer I've been walking around with a guilty smile. I can't help but grieve my loss for much longer that I anticipated and when I heard those two lil words "I'm pregnant!" escape my friends' mouth-- my heart sank. I was happy that they would get to experience lil bambinos coming into the world but my heart ached for the ones I wouldn't be bringing into the world.
Its selfish. I know. My DH constantly reminds me that what we have is enough and that anything beyond E is more than we ever hoped for and he's right. But the eternal mother in me yearns for my child to have a sibling, a playmate for life, someone to lean on, fight over toys and the front seat of the car, experience vacations, Christmas mornings and weekends at the cottage. I want him to have someone he knows he can rely on every step of the way. It's what I have with my own siblings and even more so in my adult years, my sisters are my best friends for life.
This is so much harder than all the months of unsuccessful attempts before we started IVF. We had much more invested emotionally (and financially) and I think the expectation that it would work first time round (just like E) made the loss even deeper. All of a sudden I feel like i'm up against a fertility clock and everywhere I turn there are age groups and timelines for people doing treatment. I just have to keep my faith that our remaining frosties will be the ones or that I will miracuoulsy win the lottery ;)